"You ready to make this marriage public?" Theo Maxwell's voice sliced through the quiet, as sharp as the cufflinks he adjusted with practiced ease.

Damian stood at the altar of Saint Mary's, stroking the lapel of his tailored suit. His bright eyes locked on the grand wooden doors at the end of the aisle. The overcrowded cathedral, bathed in soft candlelight and flowers, seemed to hold its breath. Outside, rain pattered against the stained glass, but inside, the world waited.

"I'm ready," he replied, his tone firm, though a hint of a smile played on his lips.

Theo smirked. "Just remember, this isn't a boardroom. No deals to close, no rivals to outmaneuver. It's just you and Chloe."

Damian didn't blink. "It's more than that. This is about exposing her to the world."

His focus shifted to the reporters clustered in the shadows, their cameras poised for his bride. Cavalli Media Group had secured the exclusive scoop, just as his stepmother orchestrated. They were here for the wedding of the year—his and Chloe's.

Vera insisted on a public ceremony when she learned of Chloe's pregnancy. "You can't keep your marriage a secret forever. Give your wife the dream she deserves," she said, "and let the press chew on something sweet for a change."

The congregation represented two worlds—Damian's polished, upper-crust society merging with Chloe's more modest roots. Regal in her emerald Valentino, Vera exchanged a knowing smile with Ida Carter, who smoothed her dress from seasons past. This wasn't just a wedding but a merger of families forged by love.

Alistair glanced at his daughter, Hope, who whispered something to Mina. A faint smile touched Mina's lips. Hope, poised and tall like her father, had a way of calming nerves. Alistair's lips twitched in an almost imperceptible smile before his eyes returned to Damian.

Nick sat a few rows back with his family, his white-blond hair neatly combed. Damian's gaze met his uncle's gray eyes—much like Saira's, but softer, kinder. Nick was the quiet anchor in Damian's storm-tossed life, and his subtle nod now brought him peace.

Damian spotted Chase near the back, his eyes distant. A familiar tension coiled in Damian's gut. Chloe insisted on inviting him, leaving no room for argument. "He was there when you weren't," she'd said, her eyes challenging him with headstrong willpower. "Just like Val was for you."

And there was Val, sliding in next to Chase, her presence a soothing balm. Her low, easy laugh reached him, and Damian saw the tension in Chase's shoulders ease and his face's hard lines soften. Val had promised to allure Chase, and Damian knew she kept her word.

Damian's end of the bargain? To seduce his own wife.

The heavy oak doors creaked open, turning every head. The church, a sanctuary for eternal vows, fell into reverent silence as photographers prepped their lenses.

Chloe appeared, arm in arm with her father, Glenn, who walked with quiet pride.

Damian's breath hitched, his heart giving an unexpected lurch.

She was stunning.

Chloe was twelve weeks pregnant, but you'd never know—the off-shoulder A-line gown hid it perfectly, flowing around her like a fairytale. Beaded lace caught the light with every step, her raven hair cascading down her back, more temptress than bride. She held a bouquet of red roses, vibrant against the ivory of her dress.

Nothing could outshine her.

Behind her, Lisa and Angie followed with their posies, their steps in sync. Lisa's dark eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her grip tightening on her flowers. Angie, her fiery red hair a bold contrast to the cathedral's muted tones, caught Chloe's eye and offered a reassuring smile.

Theo exhaled, his breath almost swallowed by the gentle swell of a classical rendition of Adele's "Make You Feel My Love." He stood steady, a calm anchor beside Damian.

But Chloe's almond eyes pulled him in, locking onto his like a lifeline in a storm. They had exchanged vows in secrecy months ago, but this time, the world was watching. Yet Damian wasn't thinking about headlines, deals, or the empire he was building.

Everything around them faded, and only she remained. Damian felt certain. It was just Chloe. She was all he needed.

***

Damian's grandparents, John and Elizabeth Scott, hosted an intimate reception at their secluded ranch, tucked away from the world's prying eyes. Chloe traded her wedding gown for something more relaxed yet striking, the back of her red dress dipping low. Damian's thumb traced lazy circles on her bare shoulder while he bantered with Theo.

Lisa watched as Hope and Mina wandered toward the stables, Mina almost skipping with excitement. "So, the case officer fast-tracked your foster application? Said your home was the best fit?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at Chloe.

"Yep. Mina's family now," Chloe replied, slipping out of Damian's embrace to stand closer to Lisa.

"Wow. Amazing. Perks of being a Scott, huh? You get things done." Lisa snapped her fingers with a grin. "Think you could swing a yacht for me?"

Chloe laughed. "Maybe for your next birthday?"

"Kidding, friend." Lisa patted her shoulder. "Keeping your name?"

"Yeah, but our child will take Damian's."

"How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted. This baby's running the show. The other day, I cried over a toilet paper commercial. Ridiculous, right?" Chloe rolled her eyes, drawing a burst of laughter from Lisa.

"Look at that—your father-in-law's warming up to your parents," Lisa noted, nodding toward the group across the lawn.

Chloe's eyes lit up as she watched her parents interact with Damian's family. Alistair, once so distant, now laughed with her father, gesturing toward the horses. Seeing him relaxed and genuinely kind made her appreciate him more.

Elizabeth appeared beside her. "Come with me," she said, guiding Chloe down a hallway lined with framed memories. They stopped before a photo; its color faded over the years.

Chloe stared at the image of a young couple—John, tall and strong, his arm wrapped around Elizabeth, who looked like a beauty queen. Chloe observed the sharp angles of John's high cheekbones and the sparkle in Elizabeth's eyes. Their resemblance to Damian was unmistakable.

"You and John... you're stunning," she admired.

Elizabeth chuckled, her eyes crinkling with warmth. "I was studying to be an engineer at the time. Well, look at how time flies. I hope you'll enjoy our gift to you and Damian."

Chloe's curiosity piqued. "What gift?"

Elizabeth's smile widened. "A first-class honeymoon to Zurich. Damian mentioned a business trip, so I thought I'd tie it together. Don't worry about Mina—I'll take care of her while you're away."

Chloe's breath caught, excitement bubbling up. "Thank you so much!" She pulled Elizabeth into a tight hug.

Elizabeth held her close, then pulled back with a soft smile. "Take care of your marriage, dear. All that glitters isn't gold."

***

After the toasts, dinner, and cake cutting, Alistair nudged Damian. "Let's talk."

They moved to a dimly lit private library, the air thick with tension. Alistair paced, hands on his hips, his movements restless. Finally, he stopped, fixing Damian with a hard stare. "Your uncle and I were talking. The burden you're carrying—your mother left you with quite a mess."

Damian didn't flinch. "I'm handling it, Dad. I stepped down as CFO, and I'm on the board, which—"

"This isn't right." Alistair cut in. "You're about to become a father, but your focus is still on Saira's baggage. Scott-Quinn Enterprises is your future, not cleaning up her chaos." He wiped his mouth as if to rid himself of the bitterness in his words.

Damian's jaw tightened. "But I'm already in too deep. Mina's inclined to testify against Marino. We need to find—"

"Listen," Alistair interrupted, his voice firm. "We've got a task force working on this. Five arrests last week, and more are coming. Nick and I will handle it."

Damian's eyes narrowed. "And Gemma? She's tied up in this with Marino."

Alistair's expression hardened. "We're tracking her. She's a problem, but we'll deal with it."

"She won't leave me alone, Dad. She's relentless."

"She's Saira's echo. Your mother was a master manipulator, a pathological liar. Gemma's no different."

"My mother was afraid of you."

Alistair's eyes flickered. "Because I took you from her. You know her tactics better than anyone, so you're ahead of Gemma. Right now, your priority is Chloe." His eyes darted to the door as if expecting Chloe to be just outside. "She's not well. I can see it."

"I'm doing everything I can. She's seeing her doctor regularly."

A heavy silence settled between them, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down.

Damian finally broke the quiet. "I understand why you couldn't love my mother, why you love Vera. It's the same reason I couldn't marry Gemma. I lost Chloe once. I can't lose her again. Those seven years... they nearly broke me."

Alistair patted Damian's broad shoulder. "The past doesn't matter. You're married to the woman you love. Nick and I..."

Damian's eyes narrowed. "Were you involved with my mother's death?"

Alistair's brow arched, but he didn't answer.

Damian shook his head, muttering, "If you did, it was for the best."

Alistair's face softened, noticing the dark circles under his son's eyes. "You're spending too much time at the club. You look like hell."

"I check in occasionally."

"Don't lie to me. Val's been updating your uncle."

Damian crossed his arms. "It's a business like any other. A cash cow and a sanctuary for those who need it."

"Here's my advice: Be with your wife. The club's rich with temptation. Val's got things under control, and Angelo's protecting her."

Damian sighed, the tension easing. Chloe was his anchor, his solace. On cue, he turned to leave.

But as his hand touched the door, his phone buzzed. A message from his PA.

> We've got a problem. It's Gemma.

Damian's breath stilled. He hesitated, the warmth of the reception clashing with the cold reality in his hand. Tonight wasn't over—not by a long shot.

***

A/N: What's Gemma up to?